


Those three words

by Melphis_Amekia



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, Drinking(one chapter), F/F, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Smut(one chapter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-24
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-03-25 14:41:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3814294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melphis_Amekia/pseuds/Melphis_Amekia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Several people stumble through professing their love for their partner.</p><p>Inspired by the poem 8 Ways To Say I Love You and a similar fanfic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Drunk

**Author's Note:**

> "Spit it into her voicemail, a little slurred and sounding like the shot whiskey you downed four courage. Feel as ashamed as you do as you walking into work in last night's clothes. Wake up cringing for days, waiting for her to mention it."

Saturday, Midnight

Music blared through the room, loud, rhythmic beats blending with the various instrumentals so well it was masterful. With Dave in charge of the music, it couldn’t be any less. 

Almost two dozen trolls and humans littered the dance floor, shaking their bodies and limbs in moves that constituted club dancing. Dirk did the best such moves, earning a few congratulatory glances from those of them who noticed his flow. He changed it abruptly as he strode to the center, dancing the most serious possible version of the chicken dance. It didn't take long for everyone to notice – John was on the floor, Dirk noticed, laughing so loudly he could hear him despite the music; Roxy was doing the same, just clinging to a similarly enchanted Jane so as not to fall, and Karkat, for once, wasn't in a fit of rage, his body shaking with laughter, his head in Terezi's shoulder. Even Aradia joined, but with less enthusiasm.

He stopped, the effect of the dance already wavering, and went up to one of the several sleek, black sofas on the dais, sauntering on to it. Dave would say he did it for 'teh ironies', but a true master never acknowledged such a thing.

Several bottles of Budweiser beer were on the glass coffee table in front. He lit a Pall Mall before using his lighter to open a bottle and drink it as if he'd drink it all in one go. It was easy enough to do, but he almost never did it. Dirk felt tired as hell, his energy seemingly already sapped out, so he was content to watch the stage for the moment.

The music changed its pace, becoming faster. Everyone seemed to pick that up and organize themselves a bit. Some even really danced in style – Sollux and Aradia were, which amused Dirk to no end, dancing the boogie, being moderately good at it; Rose and Kanaya were doing some kind of a swing dance and, hell, man when did John learn to dance the tango like a pro with Vriska? Even Dave stepped in on the action, leaving his station to do a damn impressive display of breakdancing. It was obvious he did it to impress Jade who just danced relaxedly around him, even though he didn't need to. No one really minded the fact the music didn't suit their styles like it could, but Dirk guessed they didn't care – he'd be enjoying himself likewise among them if he felt up to it.

It was a bit more than two years since the last party they organized, now nine years since they finished Sburb. They were more frequent then, sometimes happening twice a month. Asteroids full of empty building were still teleported by Skaia, though now with a course to a dot in space that were neither Earth or Alternia. They'd pick one suitable, get all the stuff needed and fly to there. All of them were God Tier now, but, since the game was finished, they weren't immortal anymore. Rest of the powers they had weren't similarly affected, but it was a pain to use them in a 'normal' world so they didn't bother just about always.

This one could have been organized months ago, but part of the reason it didn't happen then was the fact that Jake English couldn't be reached(the other part being minor scheduling problems). He actually manned up a bit, truly becoming an adventurer, so he was on his fourth several months long trip in some of the worlds more dangerous places. Enough was enough so they just went on without him.

Dirk remembered a set of particularly great parties when everyone played strip poker. Those were, incidentally, the some of the first parties they hosted on these asteroids. All of them ended up in various relationships thereafter and it was surprising how mostly stable they were. Only Jane and Jake and he and Aradia had broken up after a time.

It was a wonder the latter lasted a year and half, given his preferences. She was a great girl, way too full of life, which wasn't surprising given that she was dead for a time, but it was obvious it wouldn't last. The breakup still hurt, but they did end up as friends after a while. Jane and Jake, on the other hand, are just awkwardly polite to each other now. She ended up dating a troll called Nektan, but he didn't come here since it he wasn't a part of the group. A bit harsh, perhaps, since he was a nice guy and all, but he didn't and couldn't belong. Jane hadn't complained.

Dirk tried to banish these thoughts, concentrating on the dance floor. He succeded partly, forgetting about Jane's problems, but that meant the last part of his brain uncorrupted by Jake English melded with the rest. His usually stellar multi-tasking trained brain now failed to hold more than that single thought directed at Jake.

It was funny how awkward their interactions were when they finally met in the game. Talking didn't come easily and he felt at first like he was going to blew it. When they finally got comfortable around each other, he tried hinting, flirting, even shamelessly, but his reputation and Jake being socially inept meant what he said wasn't taken seriously.

He moved on, both in the game and after it. Building robots, rap-bots, making a factory line of smuppets, drawing comics and doing sfx for living. As far as he knew(and admitted to himself), it was the most ironic thing to do. Not to self-destruct.

Dirk looked at the half-empty pack of cigarettes, at the opened and unopened beer bottles before settling his gaze on the fully-stocked, luxurious bar.

Sunday, around 3 a.m.

He looked at the horizon, the vast expanse of space and distant stars, smoke occasionally obscuring the vista for a second as he breathed it out. A bottle of the strongest moonshine he could find stood on the railing, beside it a small, empty glass. He filled it, leaving only enough drink for one more shot.

On a dare three years ago, Sollux drank a shot of that swill, passing out the minute he drank it. Granted, the psionics might have influenced badly his ability to hold liquor, but Dirk started feeling drunk only after drinking more than half the bottle. A true Strider, he was.

He fished out his phone out of his pocket, his lanky fingers surprisingly steady, They clicked and swiped almost of their own accord until he found Jake’s number. Before he really registered it, he already drank the liquor, his throat burning, and pressed the button.

„Crikey, you have tried to reach Jake English. The gentleman in question is indisposed, so phone back later or leave a message” The sharp beep emanating from the phone almost made Dirk drop it out of surprise. Fucker must have installed an app just for the beep, or, more likely, made John do it for him.

He started, his voice sounding as rough as gravel: „H-hey Jake. W-we haven’t talked in a wh-while a-and uhh, I-I’d like to c-catch-up some-sometime... F-fuck, I sound s-so unironically d-drunk..." Slow down. Breathe. "Listen. I’m saying this truthfully, no irony attached... I-I love you...”

Dirk ended the call. Still holding the phone, he took the bottle and drank the rest of the moonshine before he saw the floor nearing his face and felt his vision blurring.

Late Afternoon

The first thing Dirk noticed when he woke up was the chatter. He opened his eyes, grateful that the room was dark enough not to annoy him, but with enough light to see. His mind felt a bit hazy, but no headache or a hangover were defo pluses. The minus being, of course, he remembered everything that happened last night.

It took him a bit to recognize the voices talking belonged to Dave and Jade. He recognized the room now, the plain, extra bedroom their apartment had. No one has ever used it by any chance, unless Dave managed to really piss off Jade.

His shades were on the night cabinet by the bed. He slipped them on as he stood up and walked out of the room. The duo was in the kitchen, right across the bedroom, preparing whatever goddamn fancy meal they were up to. 

Dirk watched them for a minute, leaning on the doorway, before entering. Dave was concentrated on what looked to be a couple of stakes on a very big pan while Jade was preparing a salad. A lot of time has passed, but whenever he saw them together, especially like this, it was obvious they loved each other. He felt no shame admitting to himself he wanted some thing like this. If he mentioned it aloud, everyone would at first think he was joking before he’d deliver the classic: „If I was joking, I’d be smiling now too” line. 

It looked so incredibly domesticated, Dirk had to remind himself how little he knew they actually spent home, Dave being the beast of a musician he was and Jade’s biology and zoology adventures meant they could, adding it all up the most favourable way, spend at most four months here together. They probably enjoyed every milisecond of their time here.

He sauntered in, alerting them to his presence, and placed himself at the corner of the small, polished wooden counter, leaning on his elbows. The kitchen was a mix of modern and traditional things mashed together in a way it looked cozy, like everything belonged there

Dave spoke first, a worried frown on his face: „You need something, bro? I know we Striders don’t get hungover, but you still look like shit.”

„The strongest black coffee you can make me. Am I staying over for dinner? That’d be great.” 

This time, it was Jade who replied: „You might as well set the table, we’re almost done here.” Dave gave her a knowing wink as he poked at the meat.

Setting the table took less than a minute, so Dirk sat down. His body itched for a smoke, and he was relieved to find a pack and a lighter in his pants. Only now did he notice he wore the same set of clothes as the night before, his iconic black pants and t-shirt with an orange cap on it. No time to worry about that now.

„Can I light one here?” he asked, his voice level. Dave and Jade looked at each other, talking in some weird way they talked by body gestures before he replied: „No problem, bro. You smell like a fucking ashtray anyway so it’s no big deal. Speaking of ashtrays, we have none get yourself a smaller plate to use as one. You’re washing it after we eat.” Jade just shrugged at that.

Dave first brought the coffee for him before they both brought the meal. Dirk exhaled, leaving the cigarette on the make-do ashtray and, with the hunger of a hundred bears, threw himself to eating. The duo ate less enthusiastically, their attention upon him.

Mid-bites, Jade asked: „What happened?”

„Saw some unicorns and decided to ride them... I got drunk, wanted to see how much of an effect a self-destruct moment would have. I don't think it was much at all, honestly.”

Dave sniggered. „I hope that the self-destruct part is ironic. That was some pretty strong stuff you drank.”

„Ironic or no, why?” Concern gripped Jade like a very, very possessive cat. Or dog, more likely.

„I can’t share that, guys. Top secret. If Lil Hal were here with me, he’d agree. Or say it just to fuck me over.”

Jade looked like she wanted to press the matter, and very badly so at that, but Dave shot her a glance over his round, Ben Stiller shades. Defeated, she resumed eating.

„You missed hell of a party. Well, most of it. I was very impressed by John. Vriska seems to be wrapped around his little finger now.”

„I might say the same for you. That breakdancing you did was stuff for the World Championship Final. Jade, you must get him to enter.”

She chuckled. „As if I wouldn’t anyway.”

„No fair. That’s double-teaming guys. When did I ever do that to you?”

„Doesn’t matter now. You’re so in.” He wanted to mock-protest more, but Jade shut him up with a quick kiss.

Dirk stood up. „Anyway, I don’t think I can be good company tonight. I’ll go. You both cook really well.”Both of their faces lift up visibly. „Coffee was great too.”

„If you need us for anything, bro, we’re here for ya.”

„Gotcha.”

All three of them hugged before the entry door, Dirk pressing tight. It was warm and comfortable and he needed it a lot, but he broke it before he felt he wouldn’t be able to let go.

„See ya!” he said, closing the door behind.

Monday afternoon

After getting back from Dave and Jade’s he showered and went straight to bed, still exhausted from the party. Dirk noticed he still wore the party clothes this morning when he arrived at work, which was a shameful display for him. It was fortunate his workplace was usually lax with dress codes, being a video editing and sfx company, but it was still preferred to be more professionally dressed. That bugged him a lot. His mood was pretty bad the whole day.

He was walking back home, rain falling rather hard and he had nothing to protect himself. Cursing the rain gave him only more excuses not to consciously think of the party, and the voice-mail.

Sooner than expected, he was back at his home, a small house in the outer parts of Houston. It suited him better than a four-centuries-in-future-lonely-apartment. He barely got in before he looked his shoulder and saw Jake English standing in his yard, looking as drenched as himself.

„Oh, fuck. How? What? When?” A million other questions popped up in his brain.

He looked almost the same as Dirk remembered him - dark, unkempt hair still reaching his shoulders, deep green eyes looking at Dirk, boxy glasses resting on his handsome face. An air of uncertainty and fear still surrounded him, but not as strong as it used to. He seemed to want to speak, but decided against it.

Jake strode towards him of all things, hugging him tightly, before bringing his face close enough for a kiss.


	2. Wordless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Sigh it into her mouth, wedged in between teeth and tongues. Don't even let your lips move when you say it, ever so lightly, in the air. Maybe it was just an exhiliration of ecstasy."

I watch Kanaya, both of us only barely dressed, close the bedroom door. For a little over a year, neither one of us had time for the other, what with work, friends, ailments, every single shitty thing imaginable. Not that we didn’t do stuff together, but the timing to do some more adventurous things was always wrong. Today was finally the end to it, in more ways than one.

Too long a time passed since I felt Kanaya’s unnaturally, but pleasantly warm lips on my neck, her fangs lightly tickling my skin. Sparks seem to ignite across my skin with each kiss, each light bite Kanaya leaves.

I feel deft fingers start to move from my lower back along my spine, every bit of surface they passed heating at their touch. They reach their destination, the strap holding my blue, pink-embroidered bra, unclenching it swiftly. Kanaya took the bra by it's ends and slid it down my hands before throwing it away, revealing my sizable boobs.

I couldn't help giving a huge, coy grin and raise an eyebrow. "Like what you see?"  
"As always, darling." she replies, lightly touching her lower lip with her finger. "I believe that the last time I encountered you so, it corresponded well with an increased sale of my designs."

Leave it to Kanaya to make something so professional sound so funny... and arousing. "I wonder why..."

A huge grin was now also etched on Kanaya's face alongside passion and ravishing hunger. I _live_ for that look. "Well, I can not help my self, enraptured as I am."

"I can help with that." I reply, embracing Kanaya and throwing her down on the bed. I sway on top of her knees, moving my body in the graceful, hypnotizing manner I learned as a professional dancer. With each second, Kanaya's eyes widen further and further, her jade irises expanding almost to their edge. No matter how many times she saw this, it always got the same reaction from Kanaya. Slowly, I put my thumbs on the waistband of my panties, slipping them down my creamy white legs, and throwing them away to give Kanaya the full view of my body.

It looks like Kanaya's composure was gone for the moment, taking in the sight reverently. Not to waste the moment, I pull her up and kiss her hard, with all the passion I held, my own fingers unraveling the hook of Kanaya's bra, freeing her small, delicate breasts. I grab one, gently massaging it, my other hand descending down by the glowing curves of Kanaya's body.

Even crazed with passion, I want this to last, to enjoy as long as we could. Kanaya seems to share the idea, taking her sweet time with her own hands.

Still, it didn't take long to get Kanaya rid of the last offending piece of clothing. I break the kiss, retreating my tongue from Kanaya's mouth, and begin trailing kisses across her face. Soon, I pass her jaw, her neck, where I leave a heart-shaped hickey. How I did that, I don’t know, but... Wow. Then, the trail goes down, along Kanaya's collarbone, chest, breasts, almost every inch of her white-glowing skin I touch with my lips.

I feel hands on the back of my head, playing with my beach-blonde hair as I go further down. When I finally reach Kanaya's ‚nook’ and begin running my tongue inside and out, those hands grip me tighter. a smaller moan becomes a series of louder and louder ones. Kanaya's thighs occasionaly graze my skin, most likely twitching in pleasure, and I take a look at her writhing, beautiful form.

I focus my tongue fully on the outside, ravenously licking around the clit, and I go insider her with my two fingers, rhythmically sliding them in and out when I found the sweet spot. As I do so, I think of the words I always wanted to say to this fantastic person under me, who helped me deal with my alcoholism, who put up with so much shit from me I’m surprised she hasn’t absconded, or I would be if I didn’t know her. I feel _stable_ , satisfied, like I can finally do my part for us. I want to say I love her, but it still seems so frightening to say so.

A strong, orgasmic shudder went through my partners body, snapping me back to full attention. Her last moan, how she says  _Roxyyyyyyyyy,_ sounds so damn pleasureful, fuuuuuuuck.  I slide my slender, sticky fingers out, take a deliberate lick, then offer them to Kanaya as I move my head level with my lovers. Kanaya takes my arms by the wrist , and her tongue starts to brush along my fingers. It looks so fucking hot, much more than it should. Kanaya must have had some fantasies of her own, since we never did it like this before, but more than a year of not doing anything does such a thing. I can’t complain.

I was so bewitched, I notice the fingers touching my pelvis as they are going in ahhhhhhhhhhh. Pleasure washes over me like the waves ranging sea. Eyes closed, I sense Kanaya’s movements, the electrifiying jolts which come with every move, every touch. I feel Kanaya kiss my neck again, feel her full lips part and the fangs to bite through the skin in the earnest, eliciting a surprised gasp. The sensation of Kanaya drinking my blood this way was euphoric, more euphoric than anything describable.

Those words I wanted to say where in the air, still unspoken, even as the ecstatic rush of my own orgasm flow through me. My moans are unrestrained, even as I collapsed on top of Kanaya. It is fortunate we live in our own house with not that many people around, otherwise, I’d be sure the police would come any minute.

Hands clasping my ass, my blurry vision shifts and my back is on the soft fabric on their bed seconds after I came. When my eyes cleared well enough to see, Kanaya stood on her knees, smiling widely. It looks like she’s not done with me. There’s no downside to the situation.

I see Kanaya's fingers are now sticky. The look in her eyes is mischievous, probably enjoying I noticed, as she leaves a straight trail with her fingers on my body, from my pussy to my lips. I feel more turned on than ever, like I found some new levels to the sensation as Kanaya places her tongue at the bottom of the trail and slowly raises up.

When Kanaya finishes her slow climb, reciprocate the passionate kiss that follows, finally mouthing I love you again and again, hoping both she does and doesn’t understand. We adjust ourselves so that our pussies touch and begin to grind against each other as their hands explored each others bodies like never before, the friction becoming more unbearable by the minute, second before I come and feel her too.

I feel utterly satisfied, entwined with Kanaya like this, watching her eyelids flutter sleepily. She looks exhausted, and I realize I am too. I feel being lightly drifted into sleep, Kanaya’s face touching my own, the room suddenly much darker than before.

\--------------------------

I stir, gentle movements lightly rubbing my cheeks. Opening my eyes, I gaze into the jade of Kanaya's, whose face was grinning slyly, like she realized something I did not. We are still entwined, as if we are one.

Kanaya kisses me slowly, her lips forming each letter of those same words the same way I did last night. When she breaks it, my love just looks at me and, with a voice as sweet as her smile, says: „I too am enamoured with you, darling.”


	3. Uncomfortable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Buy her flowers. Buy her chocolate. Buy her a teddy bear, because that's what every romantic comedy has taught you. Take her out to a nice restaurant where neither of you feel comfortable and spend all night clearing your throat and hugging at your tie. Feel like your actions are more suited to a proposal than the simple confession of something you've always known."

Jane was nervous as hell, driving in the black Crockercorp limousine she was entitled to. Her beloved, Jake English, sat across her, smiling at her but still looking more uncomfortable than ever. She'd rank it as an achievement all by itself, if she could stop and think about it.

_'I am really doing this.'_

They were going to Le Meurice, the most expensive restaurant in Paris, even in Europe as a whole. An extravagant, expensive, 3-Michelin-star restaurant seemed the perfect place to go to now, 2 years after the game and half a year less for their relationship. Jane wanted to tell him all that she felt for him, to utter aloud her love. She thought going to such a romantic place would make it easier, but the closer they were to their destination, the bigger her fear was. _'What if he just laughs at me? What if he doesn't feel the same? What if... What if?'_ Jane could almost feel the exasperation in her thoughts.

Not thinking such things was not in her power, but Jane tried to distract herself by taking in the wonderful evening scenery. The actual sightseeing was supposed to happen tomorrow, but taking a peek at this wondrous, beautiful city was captivating enough. Out of the corner of her eye, Jane saw him darting his eyes around, probably trying to do the same she. It was impossible not to.

Her eyes now scooted towards the rose in Jake’s chest pocket, a gift from her, just like the watch on his left hand. It was a Longines watch, Swiss-made, named Heritage. A simple looking enough watch, it’s black-leather bands hiding an intricate design and the clock itself was detailed in a fashionable way. It was expensive, but Jane was the head of Crockercorp - she could afford anything.

The limousine made a right turn and Jane recognized the Rivoli Street from the pictures she saw on the internet. The Tuileries Gardens were on her left, a line of chestnut trees obstructing the view of the whole park. It looked magnificent in aerial photographs, which was the reason she reserved a table by one the windows of the restaurant. Le Meurice premises were in the middle of a very long, old building on the right, modest, yet beautiful arches partly supporting the mix of shops, restaurants and apartments in the building complex. By the time Jane got an eyeful of everything, the car stopped at their destination.

Jake got out first, doing his best to act casual, and extended a hand for her. Jane took it and exited the limo, again admiring the way he looked in a fancy, pitch-black suit and a dark green tie.

„You really should wear that more. It _suits_ you.”

He chuckled at the terrible pun, a warm, nervous, Jake-like sound, and Jane found herself chuckling too.

„And you, darling, look exquisite.” he said, glancing at the light blue lace dress she wore before he rested his eyes on her own. „Shall we?”

„Yes.”

Holding their hands tight, they entered Le Meurice. It took all the self-control Jane instilled in herself not to stare at the polished marble surfaces, golden-crafted embroideries or the beautiful crystal chandeliers with an open mouth. She saw the pictures, but seeing it in front of her was overloading her senses. Jake was, she noticed, faring less well, his hand in hers even tighter than before.

A short, plump woman in a very nice white and black serving outfit walked to them and asked: „Miss Crocker? Mister English?”

Jane felt her cheeks redden since she didn’t see her until almost before she stopped in front of them.

„Yes?”

„This way, please.” she said in a cheerful, but professional manner, with only a slight hint of a French accent. The waitress, whose name plaque read Marie, lead them to their table. A small bouquet of red, purple and yellow chrysanthemums in a wide porcelain vase stood in the center, two long candles by its sides. Jake, ever the gentleman, pulled out her chair before she sat in, and then proceeded to sit in his own.

The waitress smiled as she handed them their menus. Jane opened it, and it felt like she was in a flood of names for meals she didn’t recognize, even though all of them had pictures beside.After a few minutes of looking through the menu, Marie asked: „What do you wish to order?”

Jane looked at Jake, feeling like her face mirrored the usual confusion of his. „What do you think?” For once, his reply came swiftly, as if he already made up his mind: „Well, Janey, darling, I am utterly flabbergasted by everything I perused in here, but the chefs special courses came to my attention and I esteem we should order it.” He was tugging at the collar of his shirt as he said that.

„I agree. Two chefs courses, please.”

„A fine choice. I assume you will also accompany the courses with the customary wines?”

„Yes, please.”

The waitress smiled at them again - they both spoke at the same time. „Your order will come shortly. Enjoy the evening Miss Crocker, Mister English, and should you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.” That said, she trotted off in the direction Jane assumed were the kitchens.

„Wow.” was all she could say. Jake just looked at her starry-eyed.

Jane felt like a swarm of butterflies was in her stomach. She wanted something to fiddle with. Since dresses didn’t even come with pockets, she did the next best thing and focused on the view from the curiously simple window.

The Tuileries Gardens were as beautiful as she imagined them, the paved avenues criss-crossing between the many parks and fountains before joining in the centre where she could just make out a rather sizable artificial lake surrounded by statues. On any other moment, she would study what she saw in great detail, since she had practically never set foot outside her home town. Here, now, even the Eiffel tower couldn’t captivate her mind for longer than a few seconds. Jake wasn’t much help, his charming nervousness in full display. Then again, her gobber was the source of all the problems.

He said those words so many times. Dirk would call the fact the most tongue-tied person they knew could so easily say them. Maybe he figures it’s the gentlemanly thing to do? Does he mean it? I hope he does, but does he really...

The clatter of trays brought Jane to her senses. Their table was being served - glasses being filled with light red wine, two plates filled with sweet potatoes, beets, carrots and parsnip were laid down in front of them. It looked surprisingly delicious. Without a lot of fanfare, she started eating, Jake following suit.

Between all the fabulous dishes that followed, like the big sea bream served with beetroots and caviar, the bright red lobster with potatoes cooked so they reminded Jane of the sea she so briefly experienced, the special chocolate cake as the desert, a variety strong, flavourful wines and her anxiety at what she wanted to say, she couldn’t really talk to him much. Besides, neither she nor he ate anything like this their whole lives, so she felt ok just small talking about the food. A bit.

The sooner the end to the dinner came, and Jane knew it would come so much sooner than she felt ready, the more all her fears rose exponentially. All of them. It felt so hard, like no one would be able to understand her if they shared her feelings at this moment. Jane tensed, feeling overwhelmed, feeling her hurt beat faster, always faster. She was ready to run, to see her face in the restaurant mirror full of tears. to never say anything again.

Jane was always ready for that, for being a tightass as Roxy put it, and she was fed up with that, with herself. She steadied herself, relaxed her face as much as she could and locked her eyes on his.

"Jake. I have to tell you why I arranged all this." A curious expression mixed itself with his confusion on his face, straining a bit to hear her. Jane spent months for this, hoping the atmosphere, the food, anything would help.

"There is something I wanted to tell you." Jane remembered the second strip poker party and the face-first way the fell into their relationship. It was a comforting memory, no matter the embarrassment she went through.

"I love you."

Jane didn't feel any easier as she said it. Jake's face looked like petrified, but not for long. Determination set in instead, if Jane read it well. Jake looked regal, like everything Jane knew he could do emerged from whatever part of his soul it was locked away. In a second, he was kneeling in front of her.

"Jane, I already knew that." He grabbed her hand, his touch light. "All of this was unnecessary." Jane felt Jake's lips kiss her hand, all the passion he possessed seeping into it. Sparks of electricity seemed to fire from the contact.  
Jake lifted his eyes, meeting her gaze.

"I love you too."


	4. Academy Award

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Whisper it into her hair in the middle of the night, after you've counted the space between her breaths and are certain she's asleep. Shut your eyes quickly when she shifts toward you in askance. Maybe you were just sleep whispering."

He is my Coolkid.

I watch Dave sleep, a light sheet covering his naked form, as does mine. It was summer, so we barely needed it. His short, blond, messy hair is in front of me, inviting me to muss it up, but that’s much more funny to do when he’s awake.

The room is full of stuff we got from wherever we went to, both together and alone. Two tomato-stained shirts hung on the near wall from the time Dave got a pretty big gig as the main DJ for the after-party to the Tomatina festival in Spain. It was an afternoon of clobbering people and each other with squashed tomatoes, like a much less dangerous and simpler, more enjoyable version of the game, and it was a hilarious amount of fun. My trusty camera was full of candy-red pics.

We kept the shirts and washed them enough not to smell before we hung them.

Out of everything here, I like the ceiling mural we stencil-sprayed the most. Pacific Rim was awesome when we saw it on the Baker Beach in San Francisco when it was screened in the open. From the film, we got the idea for a Jaeger, a gargantuan, human-shaped robot, it’s white, intricate arms ending in decievingly normal looking hands, hiding the retractable claws, two half-broken swords strapped to both arms, one on each; four sharp, gleaming protrusions on the sides of it’s head; the whole form occasionally streaked with green and red lines. It’s logo was a growling grey-white wolfhound whose chest was pierced by a bright red sword, it’s crossguard a disc of black and white circles pierced by a red scratch.

We called it the Sabre Spectre.

Calliope helped us with the initial paper sketch and design, even going so far as to insist at least spraying out the outline, but we did the rest. Dave was a pro, naturally, since he was the one who painted the club we own with his mad skills, but he showed me how to spray the paint without screwing something up. I loved the awesomeness of it and I managed to be the one who painted more than half of the Adagio, including the logo. I didn’t really give Dave much of a choice at all.

Almost all my memories with Dave are good, all captured by the old-school quality camera I managed to alchemize right before the game ended using grandpa’s as a basis. Every single one of the photos were glued to the walls of our photo room, or, as Rose and Kanaya like to call it whenever they drop by, our archive. Even a couple of Calliope's paintings made their way here, like the one where they were on LOFAF playing in the snow and collecting frogs. Only a section of one wall still had space for more.

Thinking about all of this is... fitting, as I look at him breathe, at all the locks of his hair. He wouldn't admit to anyone how much time he spends preparing it, and that's much more time than I use for my thigh-long hair, which seems impossible. Being around him is relaxing in a weird way, like his own blubbering, excitable personality makes everything slow down to a much easier pace than I am accustomed to without him. I do the same for him, even though I don't know how.

_Dave, I love you._

I hear him, see him rouse and turn, and I shut my eyes and relax my body, instinct taking over. I must have said it aloud and even though it's no secret, I found myself afraid for a moment. His warm breath already mingles with mine, but I am committed now that I did this stupid, stupid thing.

Being a Witch of Space in the game, most of my powers are still with me, and I can easily sense Dave now watching me with his eyes like freakishly beautiful, glowing rubies. Him being the Knight of Time, he's definitely on to me, but he hasn't spok..

"Harley, this is an Academy Awards deserving performance, but I am still that awesome to see through it."

I open my eyes and giggle a bit at his flattering words. Without taking his eyes of mine, Dave brings himself near, his aquiline nose tickling mine for a couple of seconds. There, he kissed me on the nose and smiled a rare, honest smile, each as perfect as it is unique, conveying with it what he'd wade through in an ironic, long-winded metaphor heavy soliloquoy if he opened his mouth.


	5. Surprises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Blurt it out in the middle of an impromptu dance party in the kitchen, as clumsy as your two left feet. When time seems to freeze, hastily tack on "in your shirt" or "when you make your award-winning meatballs" or, if you're feeling particularly brave, "when we do this." Resume dancing and pretend you don't feel her eyes on you the rest of the night."

Living with Vriska Serket is a very big, and very gratifying challenge. I knew it would be pretty difficult when I sort of ‚signed’ up for this, but I can only say I love it as much as I loved Con Air back when I was 13.

The bed is suspiciously empty now that I’ve woken up. I wonder what’s she doing now. It’s my birthday, my 22nd birthday, and it already feels awesome, especially since I am here, now, enjoying a much more normal life with Vriska after the game.

Well, as much life can be normal with Vriska. It was pretty much hell adjusting her to this combo-civilization we now have with the trolls, and it didn’t help that after almost four years I was out of touch with ‚normal’ stuff. Everyone from our group had so much to learn or re-learn, we’d have probably fallen apart if we hadn’t decided to kind of all live together at first and go to the same school and... almost everything. Though Karkat and Vriska never did go to any type of schooling institution other than that first day since they couldn’t help themselves than either be very obnoxious or do a lot of carnage. After that, we all organized ourselves to sort of homeschool them while we were still at one. It was exhausting as fuck, but also great, and it mostly paid off in the end.

Wait. Why the fuck did I follow that train of thought?

I get up from the comfy bed, put on some boxers, dark blue pants, black ghostbusters logo T-shirt, a green jacket, and red-with-yellow sneakers. The old style clock on the wall showed the time was 10:08. I already told the team I wasn't going in today and that they can also have a free day - the game we're putting together can wait. Not even Sollux objected, for once.

There's music coming from the kitchen, which means Vriska's there, cooking something, so I go there. Out of all the surprising things in the world, one of the two most surprising ones was when I learned Vriska is a talented cook. It still looks like a totally un-Vriska like thing for her to do, even with years of her cooking and the fact that it’s good enough we could easily open a restaurant and be successful with it. Vriska makes the strangest meal combinations taste great, like grubsauce, bacon and bananas. Kanaya even admitted Vriska was a better cook than she is, to Rose's grandiose displeasure. Her fuming face was pretty funny to watch.

It probably has to do something with ALL the luck Vriska has.

The second surprising thing I discovered a year ago was that Vriska could sing. We were half-drunk from a bottle of vodka, sitting on a sandy beach on the Pacific, alone, when Vriska started to sing. She seemed to make up the lyrics and the tune on the spot, because I didn't recognize anything of the song. It was breathtaking, listening to her sing, her voice beautiful and harsh and fierce when she'd go with something sounding like metal and soo much softer but the fierceness was still there when she went for something more mellow and I couldn't believe I was really, _actually_ listening to her sing.

I managed to talk Vriska into singing karaoke at one of our parties a couple of months ago. The result of that is that we’re forming a band. Dave is our DJ, responsible only for the special sound effects and laying down sick beats. Karkat plays the electric guitar as if he was Jimi Hendrix reincarnated; Nepeta, of all people, stakes the claim to be a damn good bass player. Rose on her alchemized Stradivari violin adds that brilliant classical touch when needed. Dirk plays the drums like he has four hands; I, having learned how to play the piano by my Dad, do some rather spectacular things with my synthesizer. Feferi managed to enter the group too as a mostly backup vocal, even though she gets the spotlight sometimes as well. Vriska was, of course, our main singer and occasionally another electric guitar player.

It is all a mish-mash yet, especially since we have only a couple of months together as a band and some songs we write and play are shit even Sollux, as the tech-master behind the scenes, can’t repair. Balancing all the instruments and vocal(s) is difficult normally, but we, although Rose disapproves, just jam all the songs any one of us writes for whole afternoons in Dave’s basement and get the feel of each other.

Now, as I saunter quietly into the kitchen, I hear Vriska quietly singing one of the better songs I wrote and I decide to sneak up on her and distract her with a kiss and a waist hug. She knows I'm doing this, but plays along, leaning into the embrace, but only for a moment.

"Hey, hey, don't get handsy now. I'm almost done here, so you can at least help me a bit now that you've fiiiiiiiinally managed to get out of bed."

"Mmmmmmmm, smells delicious." is my only reply, causing a wicked grin that fits on her face like practical jokery fits me before I get one big plastic and one smaller metal bowl she indicates she needs and give it to her. Vriska turns off the stove, gets what looks like hot salsa out of the sleek gray saucepan into the metal bowl, filling most of it. "I figured you'd still be sleeping by the time I was done with this so it'd cool in time and be better but whateeeeeeeever." Then, she opened the stove to get two oven trays filled with tortilla chips out into the plastic bowl.

„Take the food, sit on the bed-couch, and close your eyes. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Since I’m definitely going to be surprised somehow, I listen to he again and lounge on the dark-blue couch which actually had the width of a bed. I lie there easily without taking much space, comfortable on the leather surface, so I put the food on my left side and close my eyes.

It takes Vriska exactly the eight seconds I counted to lie by my right side. I hear the lapTV being turned on and then she’s fiddling with the screen. Before long, Vriska’s done and she’s probably distanced the screen to a more manageable distance. She kisses my earlobe and whispers with the heart-melting voice she uses so rarely: „Happy birthday, John.”

I open my eyes and a mix of joy and foreboding washes over me. The glorious, big screen shows the menu of Con Air. Vriska is looking at me, waiting for my reaction, biting her lip with her fangs.

„I remember you telling me about your tantrum when you were on the golden ship and that you scared Jade with that... But, out of all the things I could think of doing today, this one felt right.”

A smile creeps upon my lips and I can’t help it but hug her even though I say: „I am not sold yet on this, but I’ll go for the ride.”

Vriska tightens the hug, and when we release each other, she kisses my on the cheek before resting her head on my shoulder. Because of her horns, it was obvious how careful she was doing so.

„This isn’t the oooooooonly surprise I have for you today.”

„Psyche. And how many surprises have you planned? Eight?”

„The number is also a surprise, dummy. Now shoosh.” she replies as she presses the play button, aware of how obvious she is. On any other day, I might have made some kind of a joke for this, but I really wish to watch the movie with her, even if I'm not sure how it'll turn out.

Vriska looks absorbed into watching Con Air as much as I imagined she would be, almost like she was an athlete about to break a world record. Given the amount of times she probably watched Con Air, she must already have _that_ record.

Most of the film I flick my gaze to Vriska. Not because the film is as bad as I remember it being seven years ago, but because I realize for once why I got through that flashback earlier. So much has changed.

I remember her confrontation with normal life after the game ended, how she tried to act for years like everything was as before and that she didn’t realize how broken she was. Inwardly depressed and full of self-loathing, it was difficult to get through to her, especially since she locked it all up in herself as usual. Day by day, with everything going on, I became better and better at picking those locks. I knew I could do it.

I wanted to.

The weird part is how much she helped me too. I could rely on her better than on anyone. Whatever happened, whatever she was experiencing in her mind, Vriska always had time for me. Like, I fucked up something, I don’t think anyone can recall, but it did end up with me not talking with either Rose, Dave or Dirk for a time. Everyone else just made light-hearted jokes on the matter and I was hurt and mad until I got back to my place. Vriska trailed behind me and I almost blew off her help before I remembered she was silent like she was in a void throughout that talk. I let her in. What Vriska said then, and each time it was needed, was tough, but she did it gently, as if I was a wisp of breath resting lightly in her hands.

Now, I look at her watching the movie for the millionth time, both of us nabbing at the snacks and all I can think of the scars our friends, I, and she have. For all that we all got through, she carries more of them than anyone. Vriska still is the most broken of us, the most one out-of-place on this world. I helped her mend as much as I could and she helped me, us both clumsy as babies at it.

I am happy we have a little bit of a normal life, happy that I’m making a 99% less dangerous, much more computerized version of Sburb as a design leader, happy that, for all of Vriska’s almost startling shyness for her voice, we’ll make a great band. I am happy we are here, no matter that I still sometimes rage as if I could be Gamzee 2.0. and that Vriska sometimes falls asleep face-first in her pillow crying, my arm wrapped around her.

Con Air finishes and I close the movie, go to Youtube and fire „How Do I Live” there. I stand up and offer my hand to Vriska. She looks at me like I lost my mind in a very amusing way, her lips widening in a smile, and takes it. I start to dance, feeling like I’m in some kind of a trance, trying to flail my limbs around without destroying anything. Vriska’s laughing, just straight up laughing as she dances herself far more elegantly than I and I too laugh and blurt outsay the only thing on my mind:

„I love you...” Shit. From the way she stops, I said it, and I don’t stop myself before I add: „...when we do this.”

Here eyes are still looking at me with curiosity and I know Vriska doesn’t believe me but she doesn’t call out my lie. She just looks thoughtful and I want to break the spell so I resume dancing. Instead of following, she smiles as wide as ever, a picture of mischief, and stops me with a hand on my chest.

„Most of my surprises seem to have melted in the fires of infinitely better ideas to replace them.”

„Huh? What?”

„Joooooooohn, you are still a lot like that dork you were when we first trolled. Come on, we got places to go, people to see and stuff to learn.”

„Like where?”

„Like somewhere you can become a decent dancer. I can show you some moves, but I am no teacher. It would be funny and great to learn the tango, don’t you think?”

Now that’s an idea. I just nod, not trusting myself to speak anymore.

„Come on then,” she says, taking my hand, „we still have a whole day and all the irons are still in the fire. And when we return... let’s say that’s one surprise nothing can top off.”


	6. Crimson Words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Write her a letter in which the amount of circumnavigating and angst could rival Ms. Darcy's. Debate where to leave it all day - on her pillow? In her coat pocket? Throw it away in frustration, conveniently leaving it face up in the trash can, her name scrawled on the front in your sloppy handwriting. Let her wonder if you meant it."

„For once, it seems I have some fucking luck in my life. You are not in your hive, and judging by the fact that the time is 4:13 p.m., your case has taken quite longer than you thought it would and you won’t return for a while.

I still don’t know why it takes me so long to do some things, to realize that I am, as a person, the equivalent of barkbeast vomit. Even as a psyhchedelic idiot, I don’t know why the fuck I’m writing this shit rinsing letter to a blind person, even though I know you’ll almost be beside yourself licking the crimson-coloured special pen I’m using.

Gog, I’m taking so fucking long writing this, I’m looking over my shoulder through the window to get some grubfisted warning that you’re coming. I’m imagining past and future braindead Karkats looking over me and bickering like a bunch of motherfucking, schizophrenic bastards we are. Remember those piles of festering flaps of shit which passed for memos back in the game?

Bloody trollocaust hell, the fucking point I’m trying to make... The game had ended sweeps ago, we had become great fucking friends, but I never could truly tell you...

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Jegus. Fuck. I can see you outside, you just turned round the corner and you’ll soon be here. Come on, Karkat, get your abhorrent nooksucking act together. Fuck. This entire pointless exercise was to say...

I’m fucking flushed for you, Rezi. This feculent blithering mass of filth is completely and utterly flushed for you.”

Where to put it, where to fucking put it, she’s already crossed half the distance to her hive. Leave at her desk? Bed? Pillow? Even putrid garbage could make it's mind up faster than he.

Karkat darted his eyes around the room, not fixing them on anything. This was fucking stupid, pointless. This was no way to tell fucking her. She deserves better.

One last look through the window and he already wanted to drill his skull with a pneumatic drill on a hate that for lounging so long in her hive she’s already near the it. Karkat bolted for the door, launched himself to the hall and yes there’s a half open window there. He ran to it, opening it fully, and got one leg through...

„Karkat!”

If he still had his sickle with him, he'd already start making a grub-marinated fillet of himself.

„Why are you running? Did something that requires my services?

„Fucking no, Terezi. Not to mention you’d rather like to be on the fucking accusing side of the law.”

„He he he Karkles. You know me so well. But you are a special case I’d be willing to make an exception for." She sniggered. "Let me get changed so you can tell me what you’ve been doing here, except trying to escape.”

Wait. Something was wrong. He looked down to his hands. The letter was not in them. Fuck. This was 'Inflamed Fucking Gallsphinchter' level of serious.

„Fuck no, Rezi, don’t fucking go in, there’s something...”

Instead of answering, she sprinted to her door, got inside, and locked it before Karkat could get near. Jegus, if I wasn’t so flushing for her, I’d go festering-discharged pitch at her.

Karkat pounded on her door. „Rezi? What the fuck! Jegus, please let me in. Fucking please.”

He stood so long there, pounding, shouting, when she finally opened the door he fucking bonked her on her head. Terezi ignored it, fixing him with her non-existant eyes, her dragon-head cane in her right and the letter in her left hand. She whacked him on the head affectionately, then discarded the cane. Slowly, far too slowly, she got closer and closer to him, taking him by his cancer-logo shirt, lowering his head to hers.

„I’m flushed for you too, you fucking moron.” she said, pressing her lips to his.


	7. Like Light Itself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Wait until something terrible has happened and you can't not tell her anymore. Wait until she almost gets hit by a car crossing Wabash against the light and after you are done cursing at the shit-for-brains cab drivers in this city, realize you are actually terrified of living without her. Tell her with your hands shaking."
> 
> Also, this song here is perfect to listen to for this chapter(even though it ends on a much more sour note than my story): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ijf8MN0-nEI

The hospital looked just as bleak and uncomfortable as always and Kanaya was sick of dragging herself through its premises so often for almost a year. She had some minor check-ups to do, but what bothered Kanaya wasn’t her health but the slouched, wizened person she’s been supporting with her arms because her companion could barely stand.

Rose looked like the worst kind of sick. Her face was drained of the little colour it had, even her lips, those beautiful, soft lips Kanaya loved to kiss. Her night black eyes were glassy as if she was dreadfully tired of life She breathed so little, so unevenly, it was painful to think how could she survive with that little air.

Worst of all was the fact that no doctor could discern what was happening to Rose. Tests for various types of cancers, liver, stomach, any illnesses returned with the proclamation that Rose was of decent health. Not to mention how many of them just waved her off because Rose, by their words, didn’t display the symptoms to qualify for the use of their expertise.

With weeks spent looking at Rose laying in bed like she was already down in the earth... It took a gargantuan effort of Kanaya’s not to take out her chainsaw each time she saw a doctor and debunk him.

Walking through another long, blazingly white corridor full of shuffling nurses, interns and patients on the second floor would be distressing if it wasn’t so frequent.. They were headed for Feferi’s office at the end of the corridor. Feferi was the chief doctor for gastroenteritic, or, simply put, stomach diseases. Even though she proved to be of no help for Rose, Kanaya was confident to leave Rose in her friends care while she tried to find some new doctor to help. Her options were already as thin as Rose.

They passed the elevators, which were in the middle of the hall. Right by them stood a dark-skinned, youthful doctor, probably being the only person standing still and drinking Starbucks coffee in the building. As they were passing, Kanaya noticed him looking straight at Rose.

„Excuse me?” he asked, his tone a mixture of curiosity and concern. „I see you here all the time in passing, and even though you look sicker each time I see you and you definitely should stay here, you do not stay. Why?”

„Not one professional in this facility managed to give her a diagnose of her illness.” Kanaya answered instead of Rose, ignoring her mumbling. „I endeavour to do everything in my power to encounter someone who can.”

The look he gave Kanaya was kind. „I do not know if I can be that someone, since she doesn’t look like a case for a neurosurgeon, but I wish to try. Could you describe me her symptoms?”

„She is fatigued to the point of me having to walk her anywhere and sometimes complains of needle-sharp pain on her soles. She barely draws breath and sleep does not come to her. Her skin always was pale, but now she is almost as white as these walls.”

„Did you test for thyroid diseases? Some of the symptoms sound like it could be caused by overreaction of the gland.”

„Rose is indeed plagued by some minor problems with the thyroid gland, but these symptoms are neither correlated nor caused by it.” Kanaya replied, shaking her head.

„Hmmm. Then... Let’s try this.” he says, turning fully to Rose. „Miss, I will touch your fingers now. Nod as much as you can if you feel anything during the next thirty seconds or so.”

He reached for Rose’s hands and touched them lightly at first. There was no reaction from Rose, so the doctor looked like he strengthened the touch each second until it looked like he could almost break her bones.

Rose didn’t react at all. Kanaya stood there, shocked beyond words as the doctor let go of her hands.

„When did you first go to see your family doctor?”

The question shook her out of the shock somewhat. This was disturbing, but for Rose’s sake, she had to compose herself. „Our first visit for this occurred two years ago.”

He scowled, his frown burrowed on his face. „I am not surprised you haven’t noticed it, but this numbness to touch could have started manifesting itself more than two years ago and your doctor should have been more observant. What bugs me is why didn’t she tell you anything about this?”

„Rose is, unfortunately, a person of extreme stubbornness alongside her intelligence.” The many arguments about how she was okay was a testament to that. Rose even called her Fussyfangs a couple of times, which, coming from someone else, wouldn’t have stung quite so much. She always apologized later in her own way, like the time Kanaya found a printed out story of a character clearly resembling Rose ask forgiveness of a person remarkably similar looking to Kanaya. Then, Rose hugged her while Kanaya was making lunch and Kanaya figured Rose waited until she read the piece. The gestures weren’t needed at all since Kanaya forgave her the moment the argument stopped. What frustrated her was that it was Rose’s life they’d argued about. „Her spirit is quite difficult to manage at times.”

„This little test did not confirm anything concretely, but I can give you an immediate appointment with someone better specialized in the issue than I am. I will not divulge my suspicions yet, but if I am right, she needs immediate treatment.”

„Or else?”

„She might have a couple of days more to live at most.”

If Kanaya was shocked before, it could not be compared to now. It felt like she was under a roller coaster car, like science wands shot through her body again. Kanaya hugged Rose more tightly, dread mounting even more as she felt Rose fail to respond.

Her fantastic vision started to blur as if covered in film. Everything around her was barely acknowledged, from the doctor calling the nurses to do a makeshift take of a blood sample, which they barely managed to do since they couldn’t seem to find the vein to the nurses gently laying Rose on a hospital bed and sending her to IC. Kanaya’s eyes were trained on Rose’s drained face that still managed to look full of badly suppressed pain up until they reached the IC and she had no choice but to slump down on a chair on the opposite side of the room, face buried in her hands.

Sitting there, the image of a crying, wasted woman, and waiting was the only thing Kanaya could do. If she moved a millimeter, all the rage and fear piercing her pusher would overwhelm the last bit of reason she had, make her explode with pain. There was nothing to be done for who knows how long but wail silently inside her think pan and imagine Rose’s grave more colourful than her beloved’s face. If the doctors guess was right, and Kanaya didn’t even remember what it was, he or whoever he said knows what is making Rose deathly sick might save her.

Might.

\-------------------------------------

"Excuse me, miss Maryam?"

Kanaya guessed a nurse approached her, but sitting like this for some time, unmoving, made her feel like her hands were glued to her face. She didn't trust herself enough to try and untangle them or speak, so she gave the smallest of nods.

"Your partner is stable for now and the blood sample is being tested at the moment. It should be finished by tomorrow. You can also go inside and be with her." The nurses tone was professional, but light. It made Kanaya mad, however unreasonable it was. She knew if she was a nurse she'd have also become somewhat deadened to do the job, but she was here now and Rose clung to her life by a thread.

Kanaya looked up to see the nurses concerned look on her face and that was even more wrong because the concern clearly etched in her face was not for Rose but for Kanaya. "Thank you." was all she managed to reply, her voice small and thick and hoarse as gravel. She stood up and walked into Rose's IC room, trying not to picture what is inside even as she's opening the door..

Several tubes pierced Rose’s left arm above the waist and an oxygen mask was placed on her mouth. This looked even worse than when Rose was laying at home like this, the machines around her monitoring her vitals, infusion therapy going through the tubes and the mask barely close enough to work.

There was nothing Kanaya could do but to sit again, surrounded by less glaringly white walls and Rose and the machines connected to her. She wanted to scream, to fuss over her like she knew what she was doing, to hold her in a tight embrace, to see her cheeks red again.

Anything but wait and look at Rose’s closed eyes and the shallow rise and fall of her chest and listen to the out-of-tune song of the machines.

\-------------------------------------

Other than a nurse on her shift coming to check on Rose every hour or so, no one came into the room for the rest of the day and throughout the night. Rose did not wake up at all, even though her vitals were stable.

It was only sometime early morning that the neurosurgeon, another doctor and two nurses entered.

„Miss Maryam, would you please come with me outside and let them treat your partner? I will be able to explain everything to you and first treatments of this kind tend to look much worse than they are.” said the surgeon, gesturing with his right arm towards the door.

Kanaya complied to the request even though every piece of her wished to stay. Once outside, she did not wait for him to speak first.

„What is it that you have found?” she asked, fear and hope lined through the small tone of her voice.

„Your partner has a serious case of anemia caused by vitamin B12 deficiency. I’ll have to explain this a bit more broadly since I guess you haven’t been in a position to learn this.” Kanaya could tell he was not being condescending, but rather honest, and besides, she may have drank blood but she did not know that much about it. Right know, she would devour anything about it, especially if it was about human blood.

„From what I gathered both from medical books and my friend Zoe, who is the doctor administering the treatment, vitamin B12 is one of the crucial components in creating new blood cells, and a lack of it leads to much less healthy blood cells and even white cells, which are responsible for our immune systems, and platelets or the cells that coagulate exposed blood. This all means blood can’t function as effectively as normal and, if untreated, the result of it is... what you’ve been going through these past couple of years.”

„What can we do to help Rose?”

He smiled, an earnest smile which seemed to bring good news. Kanaya did not wish to read too much into it, but it still gave her all the hope she craved for.

„The treatment is fairly simple, actually. For now, as long as she stays in the hospital, she will have to get vitamin B12 substance injections. When she is released from our care, instead of injections it is possible to take pills and it would be your responsibility to monitor her intake.”

„Rose is not going to die?”

„If I hadn’t spoken to you, she would have. It was a close call. Not that I am taking credit. You’ve been bringing her here for forever.

She will live.”

Kanaya hugged him tight and released him before the situation became uncomfortable. Her whole life slowly being demolished and chipped away with each moment it looked like Rose was dying seemed to right itself like pieces of an already solved puzzle returning back to their form. The relief that rushed over her was what she imagined being really high on soporifics.

It was odd, Kanaya realized as she was beaming, that she did not even have the basic information of the doctor who, in spirit at least, saved Rose.

„Before I truly revel in this knowledge, there is a thing I need to apologize to you for. I have neglected to even ask you your name amongst my other transgressions.”

„It’s quite alright. You were understandably distraught as hell.” He holds out his hand. „My name is Andrew Poll.”

Kanaya took the hand and actually looked at the surgeon. Andrew was a rather young man, with a soft face, short dark hair and eyes, built more like a swimmer than a doctor.

„Kanaya Maryam. I can not be more grateful than I am for all that you have done.”

„And I am happy I saved another life. Listen, I would like to get more acquainted with you, but I have already used up all the spare time that I had and I have to go. I’ll give you my info card so we three can meet up under less stressful circumstances. I do not know Rose, but guessing by how you acted because of her, she must be someone great and I’d love to meet her.”

„That would be lovely.” she replied as she took the card. The IC door opened and Kanaya saw the staff leave. Andrew turned his head to who could only be doctor Zoe and smiled.

„Good timing Zoe, I just about had to leave. Goodbye to you, miss Maryam, and see you later ZZ.”

„Goodbye.” they both said in unison and then shifted to each other. Zoe was also a youth as far as doctors go, with almond skin, wavy brown hair, heart shaped face and big blue eyes. The attraction between the two doctors was glaringly obvious and Kanaya was relieved she could devote a bit of thought to them after everything.

„I assume Andrew got you up to speed as best he could?” the doctor spoke, hints of accent in her voice.

„He did impart me with the knowledge. I believe I am in the possession of the general idea of the illness and, though I wish for you to give me more information, I would rather very much wish to see her now if that is possible.”

„She is awake, but the medicine has not kicked in yet and it won’t really for some time. She’ll have to stay here for a couple of weeks. You can go in and see her, though, and I’ll leave you to it. Goodbye.” Without waiting for a response from Kanaya, she walked away. On any other occasion,this would have been rude, but the doctor must have guessed she needed the space.

Kanaya went inside and sat beside the bed lightly, because, however easier she felt, she did not want to disturb Rose who still looked the same. It was just that bit disappointing, even though it was irrational to think of it so because she received her first treatment only now.

Rose was looking at Kanaya, though, and her eyes were much more focused and looking straight into Kanaya’s like they were light itself. Kanaya was entranced like she could already see Rose’s star forming again, gaining strength with light touches and shining bright in the night’s sky. Her lips parted, almost on their own:

„I am flushed for you, Rose. No, wait. That is not a good description of what I feel for you at all.

For so long, I have been afraid of your passing the pictures of a life without you which have been formed in my pan were listless and colourless. I do not know if I could brave life without you and I would regret never telling you...

I love you.”

Kanaya embraced Rose lightly, resting her chin on Rose’s shoulder as jade tears flowed, finally free. She could not contain her luminescence anymore, which she ‚turned off’ while she was in the hospital, but she kept it in check so that it did not become unbearable.

Rose could not return the hug, but it did not matter to Kanaya. She was safe and she would live. Still, Kanaya felt her love’s head turn enough for the mask to be touching her ears. Rose spoke, and even though the mask disrupted the effect somewhat, it was still her voice, serious and shallow but filled with warmth:

„I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, which of these seven ships is the one getting an extra chapter, since there are no more new ships? I'd give you something for a correct guess, but the best I can do is a mental pat on your back.


	8. To Know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Say it deliberately, your tongue a springboard for every syllable. Over coffee, brushin your teeth side-by-side, as you turn off the light to go to sleep - it doesn't matter where. Do not adorn it with extra words like "I think" or "I might." Do not sigh heavily as if admitting it were a burden instead of the most joyous thing you've ever done. Look her in the eyes and pray, heart thumping wildly, that she will turn to you and say "I love you too."

Resting after a gig is, as always, still as awesome as the gig itself usually ends up being. Today, it is just lying in the bed John and I’ve shared for eight years now, eyes closed even though we are both awake.

His breathing is strong, comforting. Listening to it is almost hypnotizing now as opposed to how scary it was at first to wake up with someone beside me. It terrified me that waking up so could make me scared.

The stupid dreams probably had a lot to do with it. Dreams of frustration, anger, power, dreams were I manipulated and killed and enjoyed doing it, dreams of courts and sentences and blades piercing my heart.

Dreams where I’d fling John of a cliff with indifference and dreams where he’d crush me with his hammer, the cold wind of justice howling from his eyes.

The first time, I almost stabbed him with my dice-knife before I realized through the cerulean blur I wasn’t dreaming and it was just John, awake and slightly dazed. He took the knife, tossed it away and hugged me. That was the worst and the best thing he could do then, my reflexes begging me to act.

Every single time something like happened or I did something terrifyingly stupid, John stayed with me. Persevered. Kissed and hugged and argued and fought when he had to without fully realizing that he managed to guess what was needed to keep me sane and still breathing.

Even now, after so many years since the game, the nightmares haunt me. and the insides of my chest hurt and I wake up to cerulean streaks on my face and pillow. It is so much easier now to deal with them and all my other faults, though. John and his goofy, blundering scatter-brain is the one mostly who got me through that shit as best he could.

I helped him too with his problems, and even though he didn’t really need that much, just a strong, calming voice. I am still sure he would have fucked himself up somehow without me.

Now that we are settled, there’s this idea in my head, a very ridiculous idea for a troll to have but it never leaves my thoughts, except for when I sing.

The idea of kids and families is ridiculous and yet... There are already human-troll couples with kids, each one different than the last. Some kids have the grey skin and horns that grow when they get older, others are distinguishable from humans by their troll eyes. I see my kid in my minds eye, with my long ruffled hair and horns and grey skin and John’s eyes.

There are some things I’d need to adjust, but I am nothing if not willing to do that.

If I said it to anyone of my friends, troll or human, they’d laugh at the admittedly very amusing and absurd notion of Vriska Serket wanting a kid of her own. Imagining the scene is even more hilarious - everyone, from Kanaya to Karkat to Rose to Dave with their mouths open at that reveal. The less amusing part is when they’d all get a fit of laughter. That’s the reason I won’t divulge this to anyone yet - I still have my powers and that might be enough...

I’ll tell John, though, and soon. He’ll be surprised, yes, but when he gets that I’m not pranking him, it’ll be like he has YES! tattooed in blue lines on his face.

He would rock with tattoos on his body, especially with an 8-ball on his chest.

But there’s something I need to say to him first. On his birthday three years ago, when he told me he loved me and then out of misbegotten fear added something unimportant to it, I couldn’t reply him the same. My lips and tongue and mouth felt like they were shattered by broken eight balls at the thought of saying the same even though I loved him then as much as I do now. For once, it was I who was tongue-tied instead of him and that’s so very wrong.

I know that John always knew how I felt for him and how they are every bit as deep as his are. Like in the song I wrote for our indie-band Psyche:

_And I can’t run_   
_And I don’t want to run_

_It is only us_   
_So I won’t run_

Everything was at stake and he didn’t escape.

Neither will I.

What I want is for him to _hear_ it. To _know_ it.

I push the blanket and move to sit cross-legged on John’s lap, fitting comfortably there. He adjusts to sit so that our eyes are level, strong enough to do that with my added weight. My eyes trace his. Their colour matching with mine only makes them that much more perfectly beautiful, like four deep, connected oceans. In the reflection of his glasses, visible only to my superior eyes, my face is set in a deep grin I didn’t even realize I carried. He’s grinning too, just looking comfortable in the silence enveloping us as the low light of the dusk shines on our faces. I have to break it, no matter how sweet it feels to lie in it’s embrace. If the words I wanted to say weren’t even better, I would lose myself in its trance.

„I love you.” I say, those three words laced with a volcanic eruption of everything I feel for him.

John’s smile becomes even wider and his eyes light up a couple of notches higher than before, brimming with happiness.

„I love you, too” he replies, and both of us seem to have the same idea. Our lips meet each other halfway of the small distance between our faces, connecting into the most beautiful kiss I ever had, as beautiful as John.

**Author's Note:**

> So, here is it, the last chapter and I think that it was obvious that it was going to be a Johnvris - their other chapter didn't really get closure, which was intentional.  
> What is the favourite chapter for you guys? Let me know. My favourite is this one.  
> I'm going to have another unexpected project on here(I didn't really plan on writing this, actually), a collegestuck AU with a ton of pairings and a fuckton of shit happening. If there's anyone willing to beta read it, also let me know.
> 
> Cheers!


End file.
